Wooing a Wild Card
by Convenient Alias
Summary: Rumor has it that Eugenides is not firmly loyal to Eddis, and lately he's been flirting (from a distance) with the shadow princess of Attolia. Irene's father tells her to play nice in hopes of bringing Eugenides to their side. Oneshot, AU.


Irene thought she might hate Eugenides as much as she hated any man, with the possible exception of her beloved fiancée, Argyros. That much, and she hadn't even met him except for once when she had visited Eddis for some sort of diplomatic purpose. She couldn't even remember much about him from that visit except that he had been one of the only boys her age (not the Thief of Eddis yet back then) and a good friend of Helen's, and that he kept on stealing her hair pins and smirking at her when no one was looking. So even back then she hadn't liked him much.

But she hadn't seen him since then, and he had never contacted her. So it was an utter mystery to her why now, five years later, he decided to come back and pester her.

Not that she would have cared that he regularly left small tokens on her bedside table—trinkets, brooches, bracelets, flowers pressed into garlands, fresh fruit that she never trusted enough to eat (Eddis had no reason to poison Attolia's heiress that she knew of but still)and handkerchiefs with the letters I or A on them. It was a bit amusing, honestly, and didn't seem dangerous at least. She had no reason to fear a sixteen-year-old boy. And all right, she was only sixteen herself, but she had far more experience and maturity and intelligence than the childish thief would ever have, no matter how clever the rumors said he was.

She wouldn't have cared about the gifts, idle teasing from a boy she barely knew, except that she mentioned them to her father. She had to. It was his castle, after all, and he had to know about the thief roaming around in it at will.

And Father cared quite a bit.

"They say the latest thief's a wild card," he said when she had given him all the details.

According to Eddisian history, all the thieves were wild cards. They had been responsible for more than one politically awkward situation in Attolia and Sounis, a few assassinations and even a couple regime switches in Eddis itself. They often felt their position gave them authority to work outside orders from the ruler, and Irene wasn't even sure whether they were more dangerous when following orders or not. They were all dangerous, and no doubt the current Eugenides would be too, when he grew up and stopped playing pranks.

Irene didn't voice any of this. She could tell by Father's expression that he didn't expect her to.

Instead, she said, "Is he dangerous, Father?" with a quietly concerned face, as befitted a shadow princess.

Argyros, who always seemed to be around when she was talking to Father these days, laughed and said, "Don't worry. If he hasn't killed you yet, he won't now. Sneaking into your room, though." He shook his head.

Father said, "He's not as dangerous as he could be. He's not solidly attached to Eddis. They say he's had some arguments with the queen lately—perhaps she jilted him. Now they're distant. He's less of a threat."

"A wild card, though," Argyros said.

Father smiled. "In this case it might even be a good thing. Eddis sits securely on her throne, but Sounis is on her back and if she lost Eugenides too, things would be rather dire. And Eugenides is here in Attolia flirting with Irene." He leaned back in his chair. "Interesting, hm? I suppose he likes powerful women." He laughed at the last part, the implication that Irene could ever be powerful.

"What are you going to do about it?" Irene said.

"The question is what are you going to do about it," Father said. "He's come to you, after all. Tell me, Irene, would you like to do something to help your father get a foothold in Eddis?"

She had no desire to help her father. To help her country, yes. She nodded.

"First, we'll leave a note for the thief," Father said. "I'll dictate it to you."

The note he dictated ran something like this:

"Dear Thief,

"I've noticed the presents you've been leaving at my bedside. I very much liked the pomegranates and the last bracelet. You may see me wearing it lately—it makes me think of you. I would like to talk to you. Visit me sometime when I am awake, and I will show my appreciation for your attentions.

"Yours Truly,

"Princess Irene of Attolia."

Father dictated every last word of it. Irene thought he would have written it himself if he hadn't suspected the thief of Eddis would recognize his handwriting.

"Appreciation?" Argyros asked. "Don't you think that's a little brazen, your majesty?" He rested a hand on Irene's shoulder. "A man like the thief will see it as an invitation."

"As he is meant to," Father said. "He'll come to visit her when she is alone, most likely. Knowing she is interested will make him bold. She can lead him on and figure out how loyal he is to Eddis. And relay that information to us." He finally turned to Irene. "You understand the part you'll have to play?"

She nodded.

"You'll have to be coy and charming," Father said. "Think you can manage that?"

She nodded. She'd never charmed anyone at court before, but she'd heard the basics from her attendants. It had never sounded all that complicated. Men were pigs, after all.

Argyros laughed. "It's all right, darling. If you can't manage it, just don't talk too much."

Father smiled encouragingly and said, "It shouldn't be too difficult, Irene. A man like him is bound to be flattered at the interest no matter what you say."

"Just don't let him touch you too much," Argyros said. "It's all right to play hard to get—men like that. And this," he said, moving a hand down to rest on her thigh. "Is mine."

She nodded. As if she needed to be told that. If Eugenides tried to touch her, she'd cut his hand off.

"Get whatever information you can. Just don't be too obvious. And remember to smile. You do know how to, right?"

She forced a smile, small and reserved.

"Good. You'll be just fine."

And that was how Irene arranged her very first rendezvous with an admirer whom she was beginning to hate more than any man she had ever met. So she would have to smile, and be flattering, and be coy, and pretend she liked his presents? That was almost more than she had to fake around Argyros and Father.

It wasn't like she had ever thought the first time she tried to seduce (semi-seduce?) a man it would be romantic, or that she would ever end up with a lover. Still, as she placed the letter on her bedside table, she felt a sort of tightness in her chest and came within an inch of ripping it up, never mind what Father would say.

She placed it there gently and went to bed. It was gone in the morning.

/…/…/

The thief of Eddis didn't drop in on her at night, in her room, as she rather expected him to. Perhaps he thought it an inappropriate place to speak to a lady of her status, despite showing no qualms sneaking in and out as she slept. Instead, when he showed up to speak to her three days later, it was mid-afternoon, and she was taking her usual walk in the garden. No attendants with her—they always waited near the front of the garden as she strolled along its many paths. No one would bother to attack her. Attolia wasn't at war and even if it were, the shadow princess was hardly anyone of importance.

She was turning around a corner and he was there, sitting at the edge of a fountain, casually leafing through a book. He looked up at her arrival and broke into a grin. "Hello, Irene."

She hadn't seen him in five years, and he had changed. He was taller, for a start (although still very short, barely taller than she) and he had grown more tanned, more wiry, and more (all right, fine) handsome. His clothes were a bit more fashionable, too, although she might have thought that only because today he wore Attolian fashion rather than Eddisian, and she was biased. His hair still had the same dark braid, though, extending down to the top of his shoulder blades, and his grin hadn't changed all that much either. And his face was much the same, except for a thin, feathery scar on one of his cheeks.

"Hello, Eugenides," she said.

She walked over to the fountain but didn't sit down, unable to make herself that comfortable even though it probably would be the right move. She had no desire to sit next to him.

"You called me thief in your letter," Eugenides said. "Your terribly inviting letter." He winked.

"Thief is your title," she said, not bothering to wink back. Argyros would have said being so forward was not attractive in a woman, anyway.

"Eugenides is my title," he said. "Also my name. You can call me that."

She nodded and finally forced herself to sit down next to him. "I wanted to talk to you about the gifts you left," she said, eyes only half open, which according to one of her attendants (Iolanthe, she thought) was the expression you made when you were trying to seduce someone. It made no sense—surely you'd want to form a relationship with your eyes open—but then they said love was blind, and lust was probably doubly so, so perhaps it made some sense after all.

Eugenides snorted. "Are you trying to flirt with me, your highness?"

It was a step more formal than calling her Irene, which meant he was backing off. And his tone was obnoxious. "Do you want me to be?"

"Only if you want to," Eugenides said.

"Maybe I do," she said. She tilted her head and widened her eyes. That was apparently another trick. Both widening your eyes and narrowing them could work. It made no sense whatsoever.

"Never mind. I don't want you to," Eugenides said. He crossed his legs. "How is your father, princess?"

"Well enough," she said. "How is Eddis?"

"Well enough."

There was a long moment of silence. Eugenides reached over and lifted her hand. She wondered for a moment if he was going to kiss it (gods, she hoped not) but instead he just touched the bracelet she was wearing. "It's one of the ones I left for you."

"I do appreciate the gift," she said, unsure how to avoid flirting while still following her father's instructions. "It is well made and suits me well." This was true. She hated it anyway. "Perhaps you could tell me where you got it?"

Eugenides grinned as he had grinned when he first saw her arriving. "A thief needs to keep a few secrets, your highness. I'm afraid I cannot disclose my sources of jewelry. Don't worry—it's no one at your court."

Irene smiled, actually amused. "And at Eddis' court?"

"That wouldn't trouble you either way, would it?" Eugenides said.

They were vaguely close to what Irene was supposed to ask about now, so she supposed it was best to just go for it—although subtly, if she could. "Might it come from the queen herself?" she said, touching the beads on the bracelet gently so that they just barely trembled on the golden wire. "I hear the two of you are at odds lately."

"It seems the whole world has heard," Eugenides said. "No, Eddis' jewelry is considerably less in taste. I only ever give it to my god, who will not have to wear it."

"I had heard you were devoted to the gods, of late," she said.

"You have heard a lot of things," Eugenides said. "Do people talk about me that much? Or do you seek the news out? I flatter myself that I'm an interesting subject."

"Quite interesting," Irene said. "Although we don't hear as much of you in Attolia as you suspect." She smiled. "Tell me about yourself."

Eugenides smiled back. "Perhaps some other time, your highness. For today, I must be on my way. Although to see your face and speak with you has been a pleasure."

"For me as well. I pray you'll visit me again."

He winked. "Pray not to Eugenides. You might not like how a thief chooses to answer your prayer."

/…/…/

Father was displeased, Arygros scornful, but neither of them actually disappointed when she told them the meager information she had gathered from Eugenides at their rendezvous. After all, disappointment would imply that they actually expected something to come from the meeting in the first place, and when it came to Irene, they always kept their expectations quite low.

"That closing line implies he doesn't plan to come again after all," Father said, angrily. "After all the effort we've put in. He'll probably just leave the country and go back to pestering Eddis."

Irene did not point out that she, in fact, had been the only one really putting forth an effort. She did say, "He was very flirtatious."

"As is to be expected of a man like that. What, did he shock you?"

Not hardly. "I think he liked me," Irene said. "I think he will come again. He just wants to keep me on his toes, since he's proved predictable so far." It would hardly do for Eugenides to come at her every call. But Father had it all wrong, had the Thief all wrong. Perhaps it was because the two had never met. Perhaps because Father never understood anything that wasn't obvious, that was based around wits and attraction instead of power and greed, that was more play than war.

Father said, "You think. You think." He laughed. "I'll tell you when to think, and what."

"Indeed." She bit her lip. "And what am I to think just now?"

"Right now you needn't think just yet." He turned to Argyros. "The thief does seem to like her, although we've learned little of use. He's clever. Most likely he suspects we're just using her as bait."

Argyros smiled. "Men are worse than animals. They will fall for bait even knowing of the trap."

"No news from Eddis, though," Father said. "A little bit sad. Our contacts there have been sparse about information lately as well. Especially revolving around Eugenides' activities."

"He's learning to be discreet instead of enraging half the court, then," Argyros said. "It might not be a bad thing, if we can coax him over to our side."

Father laughed and said, "Certainly it would be. A wild card like that we couldn't trust to serve Attolia. But aren't you moving a bit fast? A thief of Eddis is unlikely to join with us outright. Not right away." He shook his head. "For now I would settle for good information. Any man would let something slip when he's in the mood, but a smart man would never change sides for a woman."

Irene doubted they would even get any information out of Eugenides, after the conversation she'd had with him. He was tight lipped, even if said lips were smiling and friendly. She hadn't even gotten confirmation that he wasn't together with the queen of Eddis, so it was entirely possible that he had just been playing with Irene, and by extension with Father and Argyros, this entire time.

And he had said he didn't want her to flirt with him. She had tried to underemphasize that part when describing their meeting, and Argyros and Father hadn't made much of it, surprisingly enough. She had been sure they would pounce and speak of how much she had failed at flirting, at the ignominy of being forced to rely on her for an operation like this. But they had been silent, and she had been relieved.

"Irene?"

She pulled her attention back to the conversation, where Father and Argyros were staring at her for having allowed it to drift for a second in the first place. She smiled and said, "Yes, Father?"

"You need not send another letter to Eugenides. Not for another few days, at least. We will see if he makes any further moves. Report to me if he leaves anything else in your room or speaks to you, and of course be friendly and…curious…if you should happen to run into him again. You can do that, right?"

"Of course."

Father rolled his eyes. "Of course."

She swallowed. Yes, she had mostly failed last time. But she hadn't chased the thief off either, and he still seemed interested. But then, Father disapproved of nearly everything.

It didn't matter.

She didn't see Eugenides for another three days, and she didn't see Father or Argyros all that much either—only at meals and meetings where she was expected to be but still ignored.

All the better. She had affairs of her own. There weren't many people at court she talked to, but there were a few. She found time to speak to Teleus about recent events, and he said he would tell the guard to keep an eye out for the thief of Eddis but not attack him. He said that was the order from the king already, but if it was what Irene wanted, he would give it particular attention.

But neither Teleus nor any other member of the guard brought her any information about Eugenides, none that really added to the information she and all the rest of the court and particularly Father already knew. None she could use, either against Eugenides or against Father. Only tales of shadows and rumors and whispers, uncertain and barely even scandalous for talk of a thief.

On the third day, one might say her prayer to the god of thieves was answered.

There was a dance that evening. Not an uncommon diversion at court—they danced at least once a week lately, whenever they could find an excuse, pretending there were affairs in Attolia actually worth celebrating, ignoring the festering corruption among the barons. Acting like they were all friends and glad to dance together.

Irene did not mind dancing. In fact, she thought she was rather good at it. At least when she danced with a member of the court she only thought they were currying favor half the time. Father did not care who danced with her, and everyone knew her opinion meant nothing. She thought perhaps half of the men who danced with her did it because they actually wanted to. There was certainly a pattern in whom would ask her to dance—young and old men both would ask, and even though all knew about Argyros, a few of the younger ones even blushed to look at her or tried to make advances. It was odd for a shadow princess, and not particularly wanted, but she accepted it and supposed at least someone in this world thought she was a prize worth having, even if the people who mattered thought differently.

Tonight the pattern deviated slightly. She had danced three songs and sat one out when she was approached, not be any member of the court, but by the Thief of Eddis himself.

"Eugenides," she said.

He grinned, teeth sparkling in candlelight. "Irene. You look lovely tonight."

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly. "It cannot be wise." They still stood at the edge of the room, mostly un-scrutinized, but it was still a far cry from creeping around in the chimneys and secret passageways, or even sneaking through the garden and peering out from behind hedges. The room was full of people, and every entrance blocked by guards.

He laughed, equally quiet. "I've rarely been accused of wisdom," he said. "May I have this dance?"

He was a decent dancer. True, he would sometimes be slightly off on certain moves, after which he would curse and tell her that was how it was done in Attolia. True, he kept on talking to her instead of letting her focus on the dance. But the first was more amusing than anything else, and the second…Well, the second could only be seen as a step towards achieving her objective, right?

"Do you dance much in Eddis?" she asked him.

"Sometimes. We used to dance on the roof. We don't do that much anymore. Eddis doesn't like dragging the whole court up."

A mention of Eddis. Irene smiled. "Do you often dance with Eddis herself?"

"Eddis usually has no shortage of other partners."

"But you're her favorite cousin," Irene said. She could remember this much from her last visit to Eddis. Helen was a nice girl, and got along with nearly all of her cousins (unlike Eugenides) but her bond to Eugenides had been unmistakable and had caused more than one of the other cousins a good amount of envy. They had a sort of easy camaraderie that Irene had envied herself. One reason she had never tried to get to know Eugenides during her visit despite knowing that one day his Thief status might make him rather important, and despite the annoyance his antics had occasionally caused her.

Eugenides said, "We dance occasionally." He leaned in a bit. "I'm dancing with you right now, though. We don't need to discuss my relationships with other women."

She smiled and kept her mouth shut.

"I'd be surprised at your jealousy," Eugenides said. "But I'm sure that's just your father talking. Am I right, princess?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"So Attolis didn't tell you to use my interest in you to gather information?" Eugenides said. He took a hand from her waist to gesture at the guarded doors. "It would have been unwise indeed to come into a crowd like this if I didn't know I wouldn't be attacked. Your father wants you to have your shot at me, so all the guards will look the other way for the night. It's a bit insulting for a thief to be so welcomed, but I suppose I've been enjoying the night so I can't really complain."

Irene pressed her lips together. There was no point in denying it. He was certain. Instead she said, "You have information and skills Attolia could greatly use."

He smiled. "I'd love to let you use me."

/…/…/

Father and Argyros were greatly pleased at this development, of course.

"He's cleverer than we thought," Father mused when she had finished telling him about her night. "But that could be a good thing. He seems to be willing to bend in our direction."

Irene inclined her head.

After sharing two dances with her, Eugenides had vanished into the crowd, and none of the guards had any information for her about where he had gone. He had said little to her after their brief conversation about allying with Attolia, and even there had given little binding information. His disappearance had therefore been more than a little frustrating, and dancing through the rest of the night had been torture. She had felt eyes watching her, not the usual ambivalent eyes of the court but Eugenides' eyes, an amused and watchful gaze. But that, most likely, had been her imagination. Eugenides had no reason to linger in a place he had left, and less reason to watch her dance if the only reason he'd been communicating with her had been to discuss possibly changing sides.

"He said he would meet with you again?" Father asked.

Irene nodded again. Those had been his last words to her before deserting the dance floor. He had winked, and when he turned away she had rolled her eyes.

"Unnecessary," Argyros said. "Now that he's shown his cards he could just as easily meet with us."

"The real question is why he decided to communicate with Irene in the first place."

Irene bit her lip and did not say that the thief had hardly been trying to start political negotiations in the beginning. Flowers and brooches were advances, but not of the diplomatic sort. Father and Argyros had been the ones to push things in that direction. But then, for all she knew Eugenides had political motivations from the start after all. It made sense in a way—there would be no reason for him to pursue a shadow princess romantically, not when everyone knew she was promised to Argyros and not likely to take a lover in the meantime. Far better men had tried to secure that position, and all had failed.

"Well," Father said. "Irene is far less intimidating, and a far safer person to negotiate with in a foreign country. Perhaps he decided to be cautious."

Now Irene had to bite back a laugh. Eugenides was hardly the cautious type.

"He doesn't need to be cautious anymore," Argyros said. "Irene must tell him that when she next meets with him. Tell him," he said, now speaking to Irene. "That either one of us would be willing to meet with him at a time and place of his choosing, and we are more enabled to negotiate than you. As much fun as all this subterfuge has been."

"I will tell him," Irene said. "I cannot promise he will listen."

"I think he will," Father said. "But if he refuses, try to find out what his terms are for yourself. There, at least, he should be willing."

She nodded.

She wasn't sure if she hoped he would listen to her or not. She suspected he might not. He was not a very sensible thief, and he did seem to enjoy meeting with her for some reason. No lilies had been left in Father's room (the very thought of it made her laugh) and no advances made on Argyros. If he did continue to meet with her, it could be interesting. He did not treat her like most people at court. It would also put her in a good position to hear whatever information he chose to pass on, even before Father heard it. And knowledge was power.

On the other hand, he made her tense and uncomfortable sometimes, and she wasn't entirely sure how he expected her to act. And having dispensed of the pretense that he was there solely to court her, he might choose to treat her rather differently once the arrangement was in place. If there was one thing she hated, it was an arrogant man.

She wasn't sure she hated Eugenides so much anymore, although he had an infuriating smile. But prolonged exposure rarely led to warmer feelings.

Father wanted to meet with Eugenides in person, anyhow. So she would pass the message along. Eugenides would know anyways if she didn't, of that much she was sure. And most likely would mock her and question her motives.

For a week she waited for Eugenides to show up again.

He did not.

Despite his promise and his wink, she saw neither hide nor hair of him. Not that she was completely out of contact. He left a rather nice hair pin—fancier even than what she used now—on her bedside table. On the third day he actually left a piece of paper that she thought was a note. But when she eagerly unfolded it, hoping for information about when they next meet or some sort of message at least, she found herself looking at a sketch of herself sitting at a council meeting. A rough sort of sketch—Eugenides was no artist—but it was still clearly her. She folded it back up and put it in her drawer for correspondence.

It didn't tell her anything she didn't already know (Eugenides was sneaking around the castle and laughing at all of them behind their backs), so she didn't feel any need to show it to Father or Argyros.

/…/…/

A week and a day after the dance, Irene awoke in the middle of the night to someone gently shaking her shoulder. She pushed the hand away and opened her eyes. The room was barely lit by the moonlight of a waning gibbous out the window, but it was enough for her to see who stood by her side. None but the Thief of Eddis.

She tried to say "Eugenides" but all that came out of her mouth was a yawn. It was improper for him to be here, she knew, even more improper than his prior appearances. But it didn't feel odd. She knew he'd been visiting her room before, so it was hardly surprising. She only felt slight annoyance that he'd woken her up this time, in the middle of the night…

She blinked away sleep. No. No time for sleeping. She'd been waiting for this all week.

"Eugenides," she said, barely slurring the word this time. She sat up. "You have chosen an odd hour to come calling."

"The thief comes when you least expect him," he said.

It wasn't when she least expected him at all. If anything, it lacked originality. She rolled her eyes. "Everyone expects the thief in the night."

"And yet no one stopped me from sneaking in," Eugenides pointed out. "Your guards could use some work."

"There's no point in keeping you out," Irene said. "You don't steal things from me. You just leave things and talk."

"Mm. But there's one thing here," Eugenides said. "That I'd like to steal more than anything in Attolia."

Irene could feel a bad line coming on. She kept her mouth firmly closed.

"And that is Attolia's princess."

And there it was. Irene growled slightly. If she were slightly more awake she would have laughed it off but a sleepy Irene was a slightly more honest Irene. "Cut it out."

"Ah? But I only speak the truth."

She shook her head. "I have a message for you from my father."

"How dull," Eugenides said. "Still, if you must. Go on."

"He would request that if you wish to give him information, you speak to him in person," Irene said. "Alternatively, you can speak to Argyros. Both of them are more able to negotiate than I."

"I don't want to talk to your father."

Irene shrugged. She knew Father would want her to put forth more effort. Honestly, though, she was having a hard time caring. "Well, that's the message. If you want to continue meeting with me instead…" She trailed off. She would be pleased? Well, she would be willing. If it helped her country.

Eugenides smiled. It wasn't his grin. It was softer, sweeter. But he shook his head. "I'd love to. But I can't."

"Oh?"

"I have to return to Eddis," Eugenides said. "As diverting as this has been, I have a position at court."

Of course. It only made sense—even a thief could only stay so long from home, especially a thief of Eddis. Somehow it shocked her more than him showing up in her room, but she didn't let it show. "If you met with Father before you left, I'm sure he'd be glad of your services."

"I don't want to serve your father," Eugenides said. "I never have."

"It could be to your advantage."

"He's an arrogant fool who mishandles his resources and can't keep a rein on his barons," Eugenides said. "Even if it were to my advantage, I don't think my pride would be able to take it."

Irene swallows. "Ah. Then you've been spending the past few weeks playing games with us." Playing with their minds, seeing how they would react. Playing with her mind in particular.

"I didn't come to Attolia to strike a bargain with Attolis," Eugenides said. "I didn't know things would go that direction, though I suppose I might have guessed. Really, I only came here to see how things were going in Attolia and pay a visit to you. It's been a while since you visited Eddis, and you don't even write anymore."

"You came as a spy." As might be expected.

"Well, yes." Eugenides shrugged. "Attolia's always chaotic—we needed the intelligence. If it means anything, you should know we have nothing against you personally."

"Of course you don't," Irene said. There was no reason to move against a shadow princess that had no power in the first place. Her fists clenched.

"Of the candidates for the throne after your father's death, you are one of the best prospects," Eugenides said.

Irene didn't comment on how casually he spoke of Father's death. Everyone knew it wasn't going to be long. Father himself was sure Argyros would be taking over soon—one reason he kept Argyros so close lately.

"Eddis would be willing to offer you support," Eugenides said. "Under certain conditions."

Irene laughed. "Tell Eddis I am uninterested in any proposal she has. I am a princess of Attolia still."

"As I am a Thief of Eddis. You still expected me to bend," Eugenides said. "You can't take these things personally."

He stood. "As I said, I have places to be. I only came to say goodbye." He walked over to the window. "And I hope to see you again soon."

"I hope you fall off the roof and die," Irene said calmly.

Eugenides slightly winced.

/…/…./

Father and Argyros were displeased at the news this time, which Irene slightly abbreviated, leaving out Eugenides' attempt to seduce her to the side of Eddis. She didn't know how they would take that and frankly it was none of their business. After all, she had stood firm. She was a princess of Attolia and on no one's side but her country's and her own.

No one had tried to convince her to ally with another country before. She supposed she might have found it flattering if she wasn't beginning to hate Eugenides even more strongly than she had before.

Eddis would be willing to offer her support. As if she needed it.

Although she still rather hoped he would manage to break his neck in the near future, she had a feeling that his own prediction was closer to the mark and they would meet again. At the very least, she suspected he would show up when she became queen of Attolia. And when that happened, she would be wiser than her father.

There was no point in trying to win the loyalty of a thief of Eddis.

/.../.../

/.../.../

/.../.../

AN: Obviously this story is somewhat AU, what with Irene and Eugenides being the same age and all. Also, writing Irene before she became Attolia is difficult. Also, I feel like Eugenides flirting with Attolia by giving her stolen stuff and sneaking around her castle is my favorite thing in fanfic. Also, Argyros is a huge jerk and so is Attolia's father.

Reviews are always appreciated.


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